


Undivided Attention

by goshdangitsjo



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Academy Era, Alternate Universe - College/University, Eventual Relationships, Kind of a College AU???, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Starfleet Academy, marked Explicit for later chapters, two idiots learning how to healthily express their emotions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2019-08-23 19:16:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16624862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goshdangitsjo/pseuds/goshdangitsjo
Summary: Ensign Kirk has no issue getting into trouble. He would throw himself in front of a bullet for any one of his friends, he would do anything to protect them. But Starfleet isn't always looking for compassion. Sometimes, an officer has to make a sacrifice for the greater good. It's only logical.So, at the academy, they assign Jim to emotional training sessions with an infuriating know-it-all Vulcan lieutenant.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! This is the first fic that I've ever posted, I hope you like it! I'm not sure how long it'll be yet, but I'll be posting a new probably twice a month, so please be sure to subscribe! Comment down below if you have any characters you want me to include (canon or OCs!) and I'll be sure to put them in!

Jim scuffed his foot against the ground, feeling the frustration growing inside his gut. There had been a new drill in his Practical Interactions class today, a diplomatic exchange scenario that should have been easy for his group to successfully moderate. But.

Jim started a war instead.

He was internally kicking himself. Yet again, his impulsive decision had placed his group last in the class for crisis management. It was all his fault.

He played the scenario in his head over and over, the simulated meeting had been going so well, right up to the conclusion, when the chancellor their group was negotiating with wrapped an arm around the neck of Ensign Green. The rest of the chamber exploded with sound as the alien diplomats let out a scream. Jim didn’t think of anything other than the safety of his friend as he pulled out his phaser, quickly and precisely striking the chancellor in the head with a killing beam.

The simulation dissolved around their group, and Jim glanced around the room to see his classmates with their heads hung in frustration, Jacob Green shot him a sympathetic look as Commander Alexander descended from the observation chamber.

“Ensign Kirk, at attention.” Alexander sounded weary, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Jim snapped his phaser back onto his belt, he had still been holding it outstretched and pointed where the chancellor had stood moments before. He straightened his back and made his face as slated as he could, but he could feel a red tinge of embarrassment creeping up his neck.

“Ensign, would you care to explain why you choose to assassinate the leader of a new federation status planet right after negotiations had been positively concluded?”

Jacob was saying something to his right. Jim snapped out of his recollection, turning to glance at his friend walking next to him across the campus green.

“Earth to Kirk! Come on, man, you were just trying to save me from being choked out by a martian. How were you supposed to know that it was a celebratory gesture?” Jacob bumped Jim’s shoulder with his own, clearly trying to cheer him up. It worked.

“Again, I’m pretty sure that just calling any alien lifeforms 'martian' is racist.” Jim cracked a smile at his friend, shifting the weight of his textbooks to lie more comfortably in his arms. “And, honestly, I’m not upset that I got another reprimand from the commander, I’m annoyed that I wasted a strike trying to save your ass.”

Green scoffed, indignant, “Hey! I’m grateful for my ass, and that you saved it!  _ I’ll _ still take you on my away missions, Ensign. As soon as I’m a Captain, you’ll be my first choice for security officer.”

Jim was grateful for the joke. He wasn’t popular with his classmates at the moment, so it was good to know that Jacob was still on his side.

“What do you think Alexander the ‘Mander wants to meet with you about? It's not like he can chew you out any more than what he did in class. And,” Green placed a reassuring hand on Jim’s arm, “you’re still top of the class in academics, there’s no way he’ll bump you from command training just because you’re behind in practical.”

Jim let out a thoughtful breath. “I don’t know. I appreciate the confidence, but this is the third simulation I’ve outright flunked. There’s a saying for three strikes, Green.”

* * *

Jim lay in bed, fiddling with a puzzle cube and effectively ignoring the blinking screen of his padd reminding him of a dozen papers due within the week. Leonard was at his residency and he’d be working the graveyard shift, so Jim had the room to himself tonight. It was 2200. If he got to work now, he wouldn’t have to be up too late with his writing.

He sighed, resigning himself to sitting down at his desk and being productive for the next few hours when the comm screen buzzed.

“Call from Captain Christopher Pike, James Kirk.” the computer droned out the names impersonally, but Jim felt a vice grip his throat, a knot forming in the pit of his stomach. He shouldn’t know what happened in class, right? They wouldn’t have notified him for something so inconsequential. But Jim knew that he would want to know, want to help however he could. So even if they hadn’t notified him of the failed simulation, Jim decided he would tell the captain.

Apprehension boiling in his gut, Jim flipped the screen on to find himself face to face with his mentor, the man looked relaxed in a knit sweater as he peered over reading glasses. His face, grizzled but kind, filled the screen and his salt and pepper hair looked damp from a shower.

“Jim.” The Captain gave a half smile. “You can relax, the Commander let me know what happened. Not strictly in his line of duty, but I think he’s worried about you and he wanted my advice on… well, I thought I’d give you a call and see how you’re holding up, anyway.”

He looked at the younger man expectantly, a hint of concern playing at the crinkles on the corners of his eyes.

“I’m alright, really, Captain,” Jim released a breath and scratched at the back of his neck. “The incident in the simulation was entirely my fault, I know, but I hope that in the future, I can remember the lesson I learned today and make a better call. I wasn’t thinking.”

Captain Pike sighed, avoiding the ensign’s eyes.

“Jim, that right there is your problem. You need to get your head out of your heart and think about the greater good rather than your personal connections. I understand that you and Ensign Green are good friends,” He paused, glancing back at Jim before allowing the rest of his thought out. “But Jim… Space is dangerous. Diplomacy is not simple. If you want a command of your own one day, you’re going to have to accept the risks!”

Jim’s brows furrowed. “With all respect, sir, I understand the dangers clearly. I would gladly sacrifice myself for any of my friends or crew. I have no issue in laying myself on the line to protect a mission or ensure the success of another. My life has never been my biggest concern, and — by extent — danger is a pretty low hurdle.”

“I’m not talking about you,” he replied, “I’m saying… I’m saying that command comes with a responsibility for more lives than your own. And there are tough calls to make. You can’t save everyone, Jim, and sometimes even the attempt can have disastrous consequences. Your simulation today. It was designed to test if your class would choose to preserve the relationships you had made during negotiations even if it meant endangering the life of one of your peers. You had no idea if Ensign Green was going to live or die, but no matter what, your response should not have been to shoot the world’s leader in the head!”

“Sir, I-”

“No, Jim!” The captain snapped. “Look,” he softened again, his face slackening in defeated apology, “there are going to be some changes coming up for you. I can’t say you’re going to like them. But please, for my sake, just try and take Commander Alexander’s idea seriously. Put yourself wholeheartedly into this new… exercise he’s going to have you doing. I think it’ll do you some good. I’ve already signed off on it.”

“Sir? I’m not sure I… Uh… What kind of exercise, sir?” Jim felt the apprehension showing on his face, but there was nothing he could do to hold it back. Special treatment wasn’t always a good thing, he found.

“The Commander will explain it all to you in your meeting tomorrow. Don’t stress about it too much, I’m just not the one to try to tell you about it.”

That did not help Jim relieve the stress.

“It’ll be fine, Ensign. I’ll talk to you soon to check up on you. Until then… just… do your best. Bye, Jim.”

“Thank you Captain. Goodbye.” Pike reached forward to flicked his comm off and the screen went dark. Jim’s face was full of tension that he had to actively disperse, unfurrowing his brows, unclenching his jaw, and relaxing the muscles of his cheeks. He ran a hand through his hair, landing it on the back of his neck. There was just no way he could get any of that work done tonight.

* * *

Bones came in next morning at 0600 hours. He looked tired, but not as tired as Jim felt. He’d been up until 0300 trying to focus, but Captain Pike’s words kept coming back to him;  _ you can’t save everyone, Jim _ . The words put a weight in his heart that recalled feelings of an empty stomach, the smell of ash…

But Jim could save Leonard. He had a cup of coffee waiting for his roommate when he got out of the shower, and had shoved all of his papers and his padd into the open backpack where it lay slung to the floor by the door as Leonard came in.

The routine was easy for them, late nights turned into early mornings for the doctor in his residency, many times the shifts would bleed into the pair’s 0800 classes that they shared. Today, it was Ecology And Its Hazards (EcoHaz for short) that they rushed off to bleary-eyed and stumbling. The class was meant to teach proper precautions when visiting new Class-M planets

“Just because the atmosphere is friendly,” repeated the professor for the hundredth time, “doesn’t mean the plants are.”

As the minutes stretched, Jim elbowed Bones to his left, trying to keep him awake. The man blinked angrily, grumbling as Jim pointed to the chalkboard.

“Bones, you gotta pay attention, ‘professor said this is sure to be on entrance exams.” Jim lied, just hoping for some company during the lecture.

“Jim, I’m a doctor, not a botanist.” he replied, eliciting a chuckle from the man on his right. “I don’t see why this is a mandatory class for me, not like I’ll be the one exploring new planets. That’s why we’ve got schmucks like you for the away teams.”

“Yeah, schmucks like me who’re about to get placed on probation or something for sucking so bad in Practical Interactions.” Jim couldn’t help it. He was nervous about what Commander Alexander’s new exercise was going to entail. He could use some reassurance from his best friend.

Bones hit Jim lightly on the shoulder with the back of his hand, sat up straighter in his seat and started taking notes. His little way of showing Jim that he was behind him, rooting for him. It made Jim feel a little more at ease knowing that he had someone in his corner.

After class, The two walked together to the simulation commander’s offices across campus. It was a plain building that housed the simulation classrooms on the first floor with no windows and three floors of office space above, where Commander Alexander was waiting. Bones was the first to reach the door, and held it open for Jim. When he saw the hesitation in Jim’s eyes, he reached out to grab his shoulder.

“Jim, honest to god it’s gonna be just fine. You know he’s just trying to help, and besides — you yourself said Pike signing off on it meant that it’s a good thing! Just keep an open mind. We can meet up later today for dinner and you’ll tell me all about it, yeah?” And Bones gave him a light push through the door.

“Thanks, Bones, yeah I’ll catch you up.” Jim said, turning one last time to wave his friend off before heading up the fluorescent-lit stairwell.

The commander’s office was on the fourth floor of the building. The door was cracked open and the light was on inside. He was certainly there.

Jim gave a gentle rap on the wood, pushing the door open slightly as a voice came from within.

“Oh, sorry, commander I didn’t realize — sorry I’ll wait out here until you’re done with your —” Jim spluttered when he saw another student sitting opposite Commander Alexander, a tall, lean man with dark hair and eyes,  _ a lieutenant _ , Jim noticed by the uniform,  _ and Vulcan _ , the ears gave away.

“That’s quite alright, Jim, Mister Spock here is part of our meeting. Please, come in and sit down.” The Vulcan —  _ Lieutenant Spock _ — raised a slanted eyebrow at Jim, curiosity plain on his face. Jim realized he’d been standing in the doorway staring at the man for far too long and took a step forward into the room.

He stood there for a few moments, feeling exposed, until Commander Alexander gestured toward the empty seat across his desk. Right next to the Lieutenant. Jim took the seat gratefully and gave a questioning look to the Commander.

Alexander considered the two students for a moment before speaking.

“Jim.” He began, focusing his eyes on the younger man. “Let me start by asking, do you know why you're here?” His gaze was stern, it left no room to evade.

“Sir, I have spoken with Captain Pike, my advisor, and I understand that you have come up with some kind of exercise to help me improve my performance in Practical Interactions simulations.” Jim shifted uncomfortably. What was this other man doing here? Why call an upperclassman in on something that he has nothing to do with?

The Commander gave a small smile. “Something like that. But I didn’t come up with it, and I’m not sure if exercise is quite the right word. It’ll be — well, I guess it’ll be more like — well, Spock, how would you describe these sessions Jim will be taking part in?” With that, the Commander glanced at the other man, allowing for a dialogue to begin.

“Commander, I believe that the most apt description in your human terms would be emotional sensitivity training.” The Lieutenant sounded slated, like a pre-recorded message.

“Jim, what do you know about Vulcan culture?” the commander asked.

This took him aback. Vulcan culture? What does that have anything to do with this? Jim felt like he was already emotionally sensitive, he never said anything offensive, he actually considered himself a rather empathetic person! Emotional sensitivity training? And the Vulcan — Jim still couldn’t place him. What does an emotionless alien have to say about sensitivity?

The confusion must have shown on his face, because the commander held up a hand as if to slow his thoughts.

“Jim, starfleet sees potential in you. We’re invested in your future, and we want you to go far, or else we wouldn’t have you in command training. Your issue is that you don’t think. Your emotions make all the decisions before your mind has any input! So we’ve brought in Mister Spock here to see if he can impart some of his knowledge on emotional control onto you.”

Everything dawned on Jim at once. “You’re saying… that you want me… to learn how to… suppress… my emotional responses? From a Vulcan?” Yeah, this should go well. “All due respect, sir, but I think I would be more comfortable seeing a certified counselor who is equipped to actually teach these tactics. Not some upperclassman with a god complex.”

“I have no god complex, as you call it, Ensign Kirk. I was simply assigned this task as you were. Bridging the gap between Human and Vulcan is one of my duties here at starfleet, and another is following the orders given to me by superior officers. I suggest you do the same.” There was something so inflammatory about the way the words slid from the Lieutenant's mouth. Maybe the Vulcan didn’t have a god complex, but there was a certain sense of superiority in the way his long fingers folded themselves neatly in his lap.

“I’ll have no argument from you, ensign. It is either you commit to these training sessions or I’ll have you knocked out of command training and assigned as an engineering grunt before you can say ‘boldly go’”  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyy! Thanks for checking out my fic! I'll be posting a new chapter probably twice a month, so please be sure to subscribe! Comment down below if you have any characters you want me to include (canon or OCs!) and I'll be sure to put them in!
> 
> By the way, I don’t think this really made sense, but I kinda see them as being in a graduate program? Like they’re obviously not cadets anymore, that’s why they have higher ranks, and Spock is like doing grant research in the science department and continuing his studies in more exploration-specific science, Jim is in command training, and Bones is in his medical residency combined with a kind of general exploration-readiness course? If this doesn’t make sense, let me know and I’ll try to make it more clear haha!

He was utterly bewildered. The pure insolence that the Ensign had shown seemed out of line and, frankly, unnecessary. Spock could see that his work was cut out for him, but he was not entirely in disagreement with Ensign Kirk. The employment of one of the only Vulcan students at Starfleet academy to assist some impulsive and entitled underclassman in his emotional education seemed to Spock offensive and reductive.

Yet it was his assignment.

So Spock composed himself and accepted the task he was given, even if it left him with the taste of acid in his mouth. The appointment from administration had been presented as an honor.

“Lieutenant Spock,” Commander Alexander sat behind a long desk with three of his colleagues. “We have an exciting proposition for you.”

A proposition. An idea or suggestion, sometimes a scheme, that is not binding in any way to it’s participants. This was not a proposition.

Spock could feel the tips of his ears burning as he mulled over what was discussed in the meeting. Ensign Kirk is a promising student with a future in command. You, Mister Spock, are a promising scientist with a future in exploration. Surely you can see the logic in helping a young man who could one day lead a mission?

The logic was tenuous at best. This arrangement offered no benefit for the young Lieutenant, other than the promise of good graces sometime in the distant future. The human concept of debt was fascinating; apparently Ensign Kirk would really “owe him one,” — at least that is what the commander had said.

Spock left the meeting with Alexander and Ensign Kirk with more than a few thoughts about the younger student. It wouldn’t do to sort through his feelings now — apprehension, wariness — they would have to wait for meditation. Now, it was time for his Alien Biology class, an advanced 3000 level interdisciplinary course that merged the medical department with the exploratory sciences.

He stalked into the lecture hall with his hands clasped behind his back, far more distracted than usual. His eyes were watching his feet, so he almost did not notice when Ensign McCoy stepped right in front of him. McCoy was shuffling through some notes on his way to his seat, and dropped the stack when the two collided. Papers scattered across the floor and Spock hurried to pick them up, cheeks tinged ever so slightly green at his error.

“My apologies, Ensign,” Spock offered as he gathered the papers once again into a neat stack, “I was preoccupied and did not see you.”

“No worries, Spock, it’s refreshing to know that even you can be a little too distracted. Just don’t go walking into any lamp posts.” The young doctor was jesting, Spock realized. An upturn of his lip and a sparkle in his eyes gave it away. He extended his arm in an  _ after you _ type gesture, and the two made their way to their accustomed seats at the front of the lecture hall.

“Can I ask what had you so wrapped up?” McCoy said as they prepared for the lecture to begin.

Spock quirked an eyebrow, glancing sideways at the doctor in appraisal. “By including your true inquiry within a request for permission, you have already catalysed the conversation.”

“Yeah, that was on purpose. Did you notice that you still managed to avoid my ‘inquiry’?” McCoy gave a roll of his eyes, grabbing his padd out of a haphazardly packed bookbag and placing it on the small desk attached to his chair.

“As it is not relevant to our working relationship as classmates or to this setting, I do not feel it necessary to indulge your human curiosity, Ensign.” Spock placed special emphasis on the last word, reminding McCoy that, though he may be exceptionally intelligent and pleasant company in the lecture, he is lower in rank than his classmate.

If McCoy understood the hint, he chose to ignore it.

“Spock, c’mon, I’m pretty sure y’ain’t got anyone else in the wings to talk to about… well, whatever’s goin’ on —”

Spock was saved from McCoy’s moment of sincerity by the arrival of the professor. A scientist that both Spock and Ensign McCoy highly admired. Conversation throughout the hall ceased abruptly and the professor began the day’s conversation on the medical practices of Altura IV. The lesson passed uncomfortably, with McCoy sneaking glances at Spock, and the Lieutenant staring daggers at the chalkboard.

As soon as the class was ended, Spock scooped his things neatly into his bag and took long strides out the door. It was not a run, nothing as undignified as that, but there was no way McCoy could have caught up or stopped Spock before he left without a glance back.

* * *

 

Spock’s housing assignment had a gym in the lowest level. Often when his more human tendencies of restlessness took over, Spock would find himself down in the utilitarian basement pounding his feet on the treadmill. It was a different type of meditation; the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears accompanied by the mechanical whirring below gave the right amount of ambience for Spock to let his mind race as fast as his feet.

It was an excuse, really, to let his aggressions out. He hid the emotional release under the guise of physical fitness. Although not an approved method in the eyes of Vulcan tradition, Spock rationalized that no outworlder would be able to perceive his emotions as anything other than exertion. Heavy breathing could be brushed off as his body’s compensation for his increased heart rate. Any vocalizations, such as a grunt or growl, would surely be attributed to Spock’s focus on the workout.

So Spock allowed himself to think — to  _ feel _ — as his legs stretched gracefully out in front of him, one foot following the next.

What was the point of Ensign Kirk’s orders to attend these lessons from Spock? As a cadet, Spock was told, Kirk had shown command capability. It makes sense that Kirk would now be an ensign in command training. What did not logically connect in Spock’s mind was why Starfleet would invest more in Kirk’s studies when he shows a clear lack of aptitude for Practical Interactions. A large part of a Captain’s duty is diplomacy, and Practical Interactions measures an ensign’s capabilities regarding that skill. To fail the simulations in that class is — well, it did not bode well for Kirk’s chances at his own command.

But that did not mean that Kirk could not find success in other areas at Starfleet. With academic scores as high as Ensign Kirk’s, the man could easily find a position aboard a ship as an engineering officer or in navigation. Command training is extremely selective, so even when a student flunks out, they are still chosen for the best assignments.

So why was the extra effort being put into Kirk’s case? Who was looking out for the Ensign?

It made no sense to Spock, and his frustration manifested by an increase in speed on the treadmill. His brows knit themselves together and the slick of sweat began to dampen his black t-shirt at the small of his back. He pushed his hair back from where it brushed against his skin and wiped across his forehead with the back of his arm, letting out a huff of breath as he did so. One foot following the next.

* * *

 

An hour later, Spock tugged his shirt off over his head and stepped in the shower, the water blessedly cool against his tight muscles and overheated skin. He stood there for a few moments, tasting the salt of his sweat as it ran in the water down his face and past his lips. He slicked his hair back and out of his way, his fingers carding through the short, dark hair at the nape of his neckl. He closed his eyes and let the water patter gently at his back, calming him.

He no longer felt the anger or the frustration that had fueled him in his workout. Instead, his attention shifted to Kirk himself, the ensign with whom, for better or for worse, Spock was going to be sharing the practice of Vulcan emotional discipline. Apprehension squeezed at his gut as Spock thought about the young man he had met in Commander Alexander’s office. He had a strong will, that much was clear. And he did not like this new arrangement any more than Spock did.

Spock did not know how he would help Kirk. He exuded his emotions in such powerful waves that Spock was not entirely sure that he would be able to teach the young man how to reign them in. As soon as Kirk had entered Commander Alexander’s office, Spock could  _ feel _ him. He radiated embarrassment at first, not knowing how to conduct himself in front of the Vulcan. Then indignation at the prospect of emotional sensitivity training. The stew of feelings pulsing just beneath the skin was intoxicating for Spock, made him feel slightly ill, and made it hard for him to focus. Kirk was obviously passionate and deeply connected with his ideas of morality — a connection that stood between him and his chance at command.

He realized he was shivering. He slammed the water over to warm for a few seconds before turning the shower off entirely. He stepped out onto the cold tile of the bathroom floor, grabbing his towel from where it was folded neatly over the rail. He scrubbed at his hair, drying it into a poofy, piecy mess that would settle itself overnight. 

Spock stared himself down in the foggy mirror, gears turning in his head as he came to a decision. He resolved then that he would do his best to help Kirk. It was his assignment, after all, to teach this human the vulcan practices of emotional reclusion. And Spock held nothing against the ensign personally; it would be unfair to fault Kirk for Spock’s assignment on his case. Perhaps Kirk would  _ actually _ rise to command. It would be illogical to refuse to help Kirk simply for spite of the circumstances.

* * *

 

It would be logical if James Kirk would accept the help of his superior officer.

As it was, Spock found himself sitting opposite the man, completely aghast at the disregard Kirk was showing for his attempts to reach out.

Spock is single-minded in his goals. When he sets out to do something, it is done with his utmost attention and without room for error. Ensign Kirk was making it increasingly difficult to hold to his virtues.

They had been in the empty office for a little over twenty minutes, and from the start, things had not gone well. The room boasted a torn leather couch — stuffing peeking out from where Kirk’s overactive hands had worried at the rips — and a couple straight backed armchairs. An office desk sat disregarded and unused in the far corner, a green shaded desk lamp gathering dust on it’s edge.

The office was located on the third floor of the simulation building, below Commander Alexander’s. There were a few empty spaces in the building, and this one had been designated for Spock’s sessions with Ensign Kirk. Spock had been told to consider the space his personal office. He was not sure he needed an office. Most of his work was done in the science labs with large numbers of student fellows, samples and controlled experiments taking up every inch of space. The desk in his quarters was adequate for any paperwork he might have or studying for his classes. Spock saw no reason to use the office space for anything other than his meetings with Kirk.

When Kirk entered the room, he was clearly agitated. Spock had arrived half an hour early to ensure his punctuality, but Kirk had rushed in at exactly 1700, plopping himself onto the couch without decorum. He shot a frustrated look at Spock, refusing to speak first.

They sat that way for a long minute, Spock simply studying the restless man sitting opposite him while Kirk stewed.

“Y’know, I really don’t need this.” Jim burst out suddenly, like a blown gasket. “I’m doing fine in all of my classes, I don’t need some type of glorified therapy to ‘set me straight.’” He slumped back into the couch, arms crossed and eyes cast on the floor. He bounced his leg a few times before catching the action and stilling himself into steely silence once again.

Spock did not respond. He stared at the ensign, not once removing his gaze from his face. He could feel the waves of resentment radiating off of Kirk like the warm air from an oven. If Kirk’s resentment was aimed at Spock, he could not tell, only that the man sitting opposite him would rather be anywhere else than this dusty office.

It was going to be far more difficult to put a genuine effort into aiding Kirk than Spock had anticipated. But his mind was set, he was going to fulfill his assignment even if he had to strap Kirk down to do it, though it looked as though he might explode if forced to be still for too long.

Even as Spock was running these thoughts through his head, he could feel Kirk building up to another outburst. Spock spoke before he could implode from the pressure of the silence.

“Ensign Kirk,” he began “I would like to begin by reminding you that we were both assigned this task as a direct order from the Starfleet Academy. As such, I am sure that you understand that it is my duty to administer these lessons whether you feel you  _ need  _ them or not.” Spock let the words fall cooly from his lips, trying to sound commanding, but feeling as though it may have come across as arrogant. “It is  _ your  _ duty to attend whether you learn anything or not.”

“Enough about  _ duty _ , Lieutenant, it’s my  _ duty _ to follow orders is all you’re saying. Well, if I ever get a command of my own, it’ll also be my  _ duty  _ to protect my crew. That’s why I’m here, right? I have to learn how to sacrifice a life, the life of one of my friends, to spare a trade agreement? Pardon me for hesitating, Mister Spock, but I think there’s something to say for having a sense of duty to your own morals."

So that was what was really on Kirk’s mind. But Spock did not see the logic in his morals. Trade agreements are valuable to the federation, and treaties, too. To jeopardize one of these for the safety of a single man… did not seem worth the risk. Especially when that risk could then ignite a war between the federation and the very country with whom they were negotiating.

Perhaps some of Spock’s confusion made its way to his expression, because Kirk let out a frustrated sigh.

“Look, I know that… I know that Vulcans have a reputation for being totally stoic and logical, but that doesn’t mean you’re heartless, right? I stand by my choice in the sim. —Okay, I don’t — I shouldn’t have shot the president of the world in the head, but — okay that doesn’t sound great — I just mean… I don’t want to sacrifice my compassion for a chance at command.” Kirk broke a little, his voice softening into something like a plea. His eyes flickered up to meet Spock’s before dropping hastily back to the floor.

Something in Spock locked itself up in titanium. Kirk would have to get over his fears of loss if he wanted a command, why couldn’t he see that?

“Ensign, these sessions will proceed as scheduled.” His voice was ice. “My time is valuable, so I will need your cooperation in order to expedite the process. I will not hear any more of your excuses.” He felt something crack, something shaking, an earthquake in his gut. He ignored it. “That’s an order, Ensign.”

After that, Kirk was all stares and silence. He cast the melted hazel of his eyes anywhere except for Spock’s, avoiding the lieutenant’s darker hues as they held him pinned to the couch.

When the hour was up, Kirk stood, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and stalking out the door. They made no headway in their first training session.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’AIN’T
> 
> Hahaha I’m totally mixing AOS and TOS personalities, but it’s because I see Jim growing from a more brash kinda guy into the in control captain we see on the enterprise. This story is about that emotional growth, kinda.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanna say thanks to you guys for all the love I’ve been getting on this fic, it’s the first one I’ve ever written and y’all have just been so kind. That being said, if you have any feedback, I would love to hear it! Rip me apart please I’m begging you.  
> I love talking to everyone who has been keeping up with this fic, so please comment or message me on tumblr @goshdangitsjo and talk 2 me :D

“Jim, get up.” Bones threw a pillow at his head. “Get your face out of your book and put on a different pair of jeans, I swear to god. We’re going to get food.”

Jim groaned, but complied, rolling off the bed to the right. He looked up and was surprised to see Jacob standing in the doorway, his arm slung over his head as he leaned against the frame with his feet crossed. He wore a navy blue v-neck that complemented the dark skin beneath, his smile flashing bright at Jim as he swapped pants.

“Y’know I have a stack of these to get through, right?” Jim shot a finger at his textbook and pulled his jean jacket on over his t-shirt. “I was just gonna eat like… mac and cheese or something.” McCoy shot him a glare at that, clearly trying to communicate the usual eat-more-vegetables-or-I’m-gonna-hook-you-up-to-a-feeding-tube-Jim.

“We’re just going to the caf, it won’t take that long, so no more excuses. We wanna hear what’s up with —” Jacob lowered his voice to a dramatic whisper, “ _ the situation. _ ” His eyes went big and then he dropped the melodrama to shoot Kirk a wink. “Y’know, whatever Alexander has you doing, it can’t be worse than the time you almost blew up the chem lab — come on, it’s me and Leonard, we’ve gotten into much worse.”

“And who would we tell.” McCoy butted in with sarcasm.

“You and I recall that chem project very differently.” Jim brushed past Green in the doorway to step into the hall outside. He glanced back, making sure the other two were coming, and caught the brief look that they exchanged. Jim rolled his eyes, “C’mon, guys, I’m starving.” He wasn’t. “I promise I’ll tell you everything after I get something to eat.” With the knot that was balling in his stomach, it would be a wonder if he could get anything down.

* * *

 

“Alright, spill.” Jacob said once they had sat down with their trays of food. “Please, Jim, it’s been almost a week since that first meeting with the ‘mander and we just want to make sure everything’s okay! Like, obviously you aren’t getting kicked out, because you’re still in the command training classes with me, so what’s the deal?” Green seemed distressed, and suddenly Jim felt a crushing sense of guilt. He’d been so frustrated and… embarrassed about the situation that he had just skipped out on telling his best friends. Jim had ducked out on dinner with Bones the night of the first meeting and had been dodging Green’s company all week. It was killing him to not spend time with his friends, but he just couldn’t bring himself to admit how poorly he had handled the situation with Lieutenant Spock.

Of course they would be worried about him, and Jim was grateful that he had friends who cared enough to stick with him even when he pushed them away. So that only leaves where to begin.

Jim took a deep breath, Jacob placed a hand on his shoulder in reassurance.

“It’s nothing, really, I don’t know why I’m so worked up about it.” Jim glanced up at his friends, who were staring at him expectantly. He sighed, “I’ve just been assigned some one-on-one lessons on how to distinguish emotional response from command decisions. I have to go once a week and… well I’m not sure what we’re  _ supposed _ to do because I kinda gave the Lieutenant the silent treatment for an hour last week. But I think it’s some sort of counselling.”

Bones laughed, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead and a glint of his teeth shined through his open smile. He crossed his arms and leaned back against his chair before speaking.

“Jim, you’ve been assigned therapy sessions.” Kirk tried to interrupt, but McCoy beat him through. “Look, it’s not a big deal. In my personal opinion it should be mandatory for all of starfleet to attend at least monthly sessions for their mental health. Hell, I have an appointment with my therapist on Monday.”

“But — see — it’s  _ not  _ therapy,” Jim finally cut in. “This guy isn’t a counselor, he doesn’t actually have any training. He’s basically just teaching me emotional suppression — which I think is probably the opposite of mental health? Achk, I don’t know. Pike thought it was a good idea but…” Jim trailed off. Pike  _ had _ signed off on this. Jim had tried to tell himself that if the Captain thought it was a good idea, he should really give it a shot.

“But god, that lieutenant is just a piece of work.” Jim deflected his train of thought. “He kept going on about  _ duty _ and what it means to have an  _ assignment _ and all that bullshit. I told him that I didn’t need to be in the sessions, that I would be perfectly fine without his help and he just uses it as an excuse to display his  _ authority  _ over me.

I know that my actions can be a bit… brash sometimes —” Bones snorted at that, and Jim gave him a pointed look. “shut up — but I’m always doing what I think is right. I tried to explain that I just… don’t want to lose a part of myself just to have a chance at a command some day.”

Jacob squeezed where he held Jim’s shoulder. “Look, man, you never know till you really try. Maybe this dude  _ is  _ a total dick, and maybe this won’t work at all. But if I know you,” Jacob caught Jim’s eyes firmly with his own, “I know that you could never lose an ounce of that compassion you’ve got. You wouldn’t give it up for anything.” Jacob dropped his hand, obviously feeling a bit exposed.

“You’re too stubborn for it.” Jacob laughed, cutting the sincerity of his words with the joke. But Jim knew that he meant it, and he was grateful.

“Yeah,” Jim laughed along, “y’know, I think you’re probably on to something. As much as I didn’t get great first impressions of that Lieutenant, I’m sure that he thinks I was being an immovable ass. We did literally sit in silence for 40 minutes while I threw a hissy fit.”

It was what Jim was really embarrassed about. Not the actual sessions or the fact that Alexander thought he needed them, but that Jim had just been so obstinate to a superior officer. Bones was always teasing him because he didn’t know where to quit. He couldn’t even count the number of times he’d gotten Green in trouble for involving him in Jim’s own insubordination.

It was just that Jim had a very strong sense of what was right and… and he wouldn’t compromise on that. And that was okay, Jim didn’t want that to change. But the prideful stubbornness had to stop, he knew.

“Hey,” Bones broke through his thoughts, “just try and actually listen to the guy next time. Report back. If he’s still an ass, we’ll egg his house.”

Jim smiled and took a bite from his food.

* * *

 

Jim woke up early. The grey light of pre-dawn just barely crept through the small windows of his bedroom. Bones was still fast asleep on the other bed, dead to the world.

Jim shivered. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for him to wake at odd hours, startling dreams and a hyperactive mind saw to that. 0537. No point really in going back to sleep. Instead, he got out of bed and pulled on some leggings, a large sweatshirt, thick socks, and a pair of hiking shoes. He snagged his spare backpack before slipping out the door, closing it carefully behind him so as not to make a sound.

Once all the way outside, Jim headed south along a footpath across campus. It was still pretty dark, all things told, but there was enough light to follow the familiar trek ahead of him. The cold bit at his nose, a sea breeze reaching from the bay in the early morning air. He enjoyed the silence. No one was out, no lights were on. The rustle of leaves on the trees could clearly be heard, a single car driving down the road the only inorganic noise in the stillness, the gentle hum of the motor muffled by the fog that clung tightly to the air.

Soon, Jim found himself passing underneath a red metal structure. The north tail of Golden Gate. Vehicles buzzed overhead, passing sporadically, not yet slowed by the traffic of rush hour. From there, the footpath rose steadily in elevation, following an empty road as it wound up the hilly landscape of the park.

After another fifteen minutes, his path broke away from the road, transitioning from pavement into packed dirt surrounded by scrub brush as he set out alone up Slackers Hill.

In the summer, the place was packed with tourists aiming to get their picture with San Francisco in the background, but in the ides of October it was blessedly empty. And one of Jim’s favorite places to watch the sun rise. He sent a silent thank you to whoever decided Starfleet Academy should be right next to the open park.

Jim reached the peak — more of a ridge, really — and sat on the chill ground. He was above the fog line here, and the roll of the clouds obscured the bay far below. The light was beginning to bring the world into clarity, like someone was turning up the saturation on a holovid. Jim took a few deep breaths, filling his lungs with the smell of dew on dirt. His heartbeat slowed for the first time since he woke up, the exertion of his walk finally stilling the reeling of his mind.

The sun was going to rise, there was going to be a new day and many more to follow. It was a way for Jim to remind himself that there is a future out there, an unseen  _ next  _ that Jim needs to witness.

It's hard for him to justify that he’s  _ here _ for a reason. In his heart, he believes that it’s pure dumb luck, some fluke of chance that he’s even alive. His dreams remind him every so often that any moment could hold either continuation or cessation. The flip of a coin the only thing keeping him tethered to his life. But in moments like this, where the world is quiet and lovely and small, Jim lets himself forget his nightmares and his past and his trepidation as he looks only toward the future and the great expanse of unknown that no one has ever touched just waiting for him out past anything he can see.

The first sliver of sunlight breached over Angel Island, glancing off of the bay below and striking Jim like a bullet. Immediately, he could feel warmth spreading as the light played through the wisp of curl in his hair and dappled his cheeks. He closed his eyes for a moment, seeing only the red of the inside of his eyelids. He found himself wondering if Lieutenant Spock had ever been on the hill.  _ Probably not _ , Jim thought wryly. The image of the press-perfect Vulcan with his silky, perfectly placed hair and fair skin didn’t seem to fit in with the golden sepia of Slackers at sunrise. Still, Jim tried to imagine it — a cresting sun hitting Spock’s eyes, softening the frown that seemed permanent on the Lieutenant's face.

Jim’s lip quirked up. The uptight bastard would probably think watching the sun rise is illogical.

Once the sun was a quarter of the way over the horizon, Jim reached into his backpack, retrieving his water bottle and a sorry-looking granola bar for breakfast. He munched and drank, focusing on the way the fog scattered where the light reached out its hand to brush it away. Cast out the cold, the damp, the dark. Banish all the thoughts that come with nighttime and usher in a hopeful morning.

It was 0830 when Jim walked back into his room, Bones awake and sitting at his desk with a bowl of oatmeal. He smiled widely at Jim, bringing him back to the world with people and noise.

“Up the hill?” he asked, by now used to Jim’s early morning disappearances.

Jim only nodded in response, unable to let go of the serenity he felt in the silence of his morning.

* * *

He didn’t know why he felt nervous.

He walked slowly across campus, stalling for as long as he could before reaching the out-of-the-way building that held Lieutenant Spock’s office. Their meeting was at 1700 again today, one week later. One week later and a lot more time to think about the situation.

He had felt angry and defensive the first week. He had warded off any attempt by the Lieutenant to actually continue with their intended lesson and had sat silently fuming until the clock wound down to the end of their hour.

This time, Jim was walking in with defenses down, a clear foil to the previous meeting. When he reached the office door, Jim paced in the hallway. He didn’t really know what to expect from Lieutenant Spock. Would he hold a grudge against Jim for his behavior last week? Jim felt that he definitely needed to apologize for insubordination and for the general rudeness of his demeanor. On the other hand, Spock may just want to continue with the lessons as though nothing had happened. It might make him uncomfortable to talk about emotional response that way.

While Jim wrestled with his overactive thoughts, the seconds ticked past. 1700 came and Jim’s hand hovered over the doorknob, still not entirely sure what he would say or how he would behave in the presence of the Vulcan. He lowered his hand to the doorknob, but missed as it swung open in front of him.

Jim tried to compose his face from the shock he felt seeing Lieutenant Spock looking gently at him from inside the office. Spock studied him for a moment, his eyebrow quirking before extending his arm to welcome Jim into the office. Jim closed his mouth from where it had sprang open slightly in surprise and swallowed, nodding at Spock in greeting before entering the space.

“Welcome back, Ensign, I trust that you had a productive week.” Spock broke the silence once Jim had seated himself on the couch. Spock remained standing, his hands clasped behind his back.

“Yes, uh… Yes, sir, I’ve had more time to think this week and uh…” Jim coughed, trying to clear his head of the imposing figure of Spock that seemed to be taking over his mental capacities. “Uh, I believe an apology is in order. I was stubborn and rude when I was here last week. I recognize that you are giving up time to help me in this… uh, education… and I did not afford you the respect that you have earned. As a lieutenant, I mean.”

Spock inclined his head, and Jim saw the grey uniform shift with the movement, stretching slightly taut across the muscle of the Lieutenant’s shoulders. The uniform was just a little too short for him, Jim noticed. The length of his torso didn’t match up to the lithe form of his body, surely making it difficult to find shirts that fit lengthwise without being baggy. He shook his head to clear it as Spock replied.

“Unnecessary, Ensign. Given the reason for these sessions, it is reasonable for me to expect resistance from you due to emotional interference.” Spock sat down softly on the edge of the armchair, his fingers steepling hin his lap. “There are, to use a human turn of phrase, no hard feelings.”

The tension in Jim’s gut dissolved, Spock seemed to be trying to reassure him in his own strange way. He smiled and let out a small chuckle, eyes dropping to his hand where it picked at the seam of the leather couch.

“I’m glad to hear it, Lieutenant. I hope to learn a lot from these sessions now that I’m prepared to give it a chance. I’ll try my best to really buy into this process, but if at any point I feel like this — education — goes against my ethics…” Jim looked back into Spock’s eyes. They were dark and intrigued, like he was trying to solve a puzzle or untie a knot. “I’d like to be able to respectfully discontinue the sessions. Deal?” Jim stuck out his hand, wanting Spock’s agreement before they began to delve into the session.

Spock’s eyebrow shot directly into his hairline, his turn to be surprised. He seemed to debate something for a few seconds, his mouth opening and then closing so that his lips pressed together in a flat line. He reached out quickly to shake Jim’s hand once before snatching the limb back. At the contact, there was a slight jolt of static electricity that passed into Jim’s arm. He didn’t think much of it.

“Agreed.” Spock stated, once again completely composed with steepled hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Progress for my sweet babies!!!  
> I feel like maybe I use too many similes? Let me know if I'm using too many similes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I know its been TEN YEARS, but finals were kicking my entire ass.
> 
> So we're all gonna pretend like this chapter is good. No beta no proof we die like men.

He was still fiddling with the rip in the couch. At this rate, the hole would widen by 4% with each hour they spent in the office. Spock estimated a three inch tear would be present by the end of their eighth session.

Spock couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of that hand. The hand that had grasped his and thought nothing of it. Approximately 6.7 seconds had passed since that handshake and Spock’s face was a slate, stone, ice. But his eyes were still on that hand.

He could tell that his heart rate had increased by 9%, an insignificant adjustment, but one that must be controlled all the same. Breathe. In and out. Slow down. Stop the thoughts. Put them away and forget them. Organize them some other time, not when James Kirk is sitting in your office picking apart your sofa.

“So, we should get this going then.” Kirk cleared his throat. “We’ve got, what, 55 minutes left today? What you got for me, teach?” Kirk gave a broad, lopsided smile, though it did not reach the crinkles of his eyes. He was still nervous. Unconvinced.

“...Indeed.” Spock quirked an eyebrow, a small admonishment of the casual phrasing. “We shall begin by ascertaining your base knowledge of Vulcan mental discipline. It is well known even to outworlders that Vulcans maintain strict control over their emotions, and that some even study for years to achieve a perfect state where these emotions are purged wholly.”

Spock paused, looking for a sign of recognition in the Ensign’s face. Kirk’s brows were furrowed already, lips lightly pressed together in consideration.

“But that’s not what we’re after.” Kirk said slowly, his elbows resting on his knees. “I mean, at least that’s not what I’m after.”

“No.” Spock stated simply, though if he engaged in the human custom of a shrug, he may have done so here. “We will attempt to strive for as much detachment as possible in these sessions, however the state of  _ Kolinahr _ is attainable only by Vulcans. It is highly commendable for us to achieve such discipline.”

“I’m sure.” Kirk huffed a breath out through his nose, that perplexed smile still present on his face. “No offense to Vulcan tradition and culture, but that sounds like hell to me. Not able to feel — anything? Really? No happiness or, or, friendship or… Ach, don’t mind me, I shouldn’t have gotten into it. Please continue, Lieutenant.”

“On the contrary, Ensign, I find the cultural diversion fascinating. What you would consider to be hell is my consideration of enlightenment, of seeing the truth in all things similar to the Buddhist concept of Nirvana. Likewise, I find overt emotional expression of any kind to be not only illogical, but undignified. To employ a commonly used metaphor, the Vulcan religion is logic.” Spock was always fascinated by Humans’ attachments to their strong emotions and their pride in them. It was so different from life on Vulcan, and Spock still was not acclimated to the overt displays he saw every day.

“Yeah, I’ve actually heard others compare the teachings of Surak to that of a religion, although I must admit I know little of the subject.” Kirk winced slightly at his ignorance.

“It is quite alright. Indeed, it would be improbable for you to have studied any of the Surakian texts, as the most revered issues are written in Golic and often only accessed by Vulcans or those specializing in Vulcan Studies.”

“I suppose that’s true, but I have always considered myself a bit of a bookworm. Perhaps that should be my homework this week, find a Standard translation and cozy up with some Surak.” Kirk arched his eyebrows at Spock, clearly making an attempt at humor. It was… fascinating.

“Why, Mr. Spock, I do believe you make that face when you’re trying not to smile.” Kirk cracked a large smile of his own, causing Spock’s eyebrow to hitch even higher upon his forehead and elicit a laugh from the younger man.

“Ensign Kirk, I recall that we agreed to move past insults.”

* * *

 

Overall it had not been… unproductive. They had not begun any of the planned instruction, but they had spent the hour discussing cultural differences between Vulcan and Terra. Spock told himself that their sessions would be more effective if the two men knew how the other’s mind worked, if Spock knew the ways that Kirk took in information.

They had barely noticed when the time had come for their session to be over, the two were so engrossed in their discussion.

Kirk laughed at what he had decided to be Spock’s “smile” every time the expression came across his face. Spock tried to explain that it was only a display of curiosity at the subject of their conversation, but the ensign was having none of it. It was slightly frustrating for Spock, but that seemed to only amuse Kirk more, each objection Spock made only fueling his hearty laughter.

“I really misjudged you, Lieutenant. I am sorry about that.” Kirk had said during a lull in their discussion of religious influence on art on both Earth and Vulcan. “I actually really like talking to you.” He glanced at his watch, seeming a little self-conscious. “I hope I’m not keeping you, I think our session was supposed to end like twenty minutes ago.”

“I… had no plans apart from writing a concluding thesis on an experiment that ended this afternoon.” Spock blinked, realizing that the young man was right about the time lapse. “I find that I am also experiencing intellectual stimulation from our discussion tonight.”

Kirk gave a soft smile at that, his lips just upturned and eyes crinkled at the edges. The two men sat in silence for a long moment before the ensign pushed himself off of the couch in one fluid motion.

“Well, then I’d say that’s a good start.”

Spock stood as well, deliberately turning to the door as Kirk bent to gather up his backpack. They walked out of the building together, Kirk holding the door for Spock as they exited.

“I guess I’ll see you next week, Lieutenant. I can honestly say that I’m… not dreading it, at least.” With that, Kirk stuck out his hand once more, and Spock stared at it, seconds stretching into infinity as his brain tried to figure out what to do.

It was rational, of course, that the ensign would assume handshakes were acceptable, as not only was it uncommon to encounter Vulcans in starfleet, but unlikely that Kirk had interacted with any before. It also made sense to seek another handshake after Spock has accepted the first one, to cement their agreement of civility. There was no reason, from Ensign Kirk’s perspective, for the Vulcan to refuse to shake his hand now. There were many, of course, but none that Spock felt comfortable explaining to the man in front of him now, with his hand out, who had already shared the moment of intimacy with the Lieutenant earlier in the evening. If Spock told him now about the intricacies of touch in Vulcan tradition, it might stain Kirk’s memory of their session tonight, and erase any progress they had made. However, if Spock accepted the handshake, he would be infringing upon the ensign’s privacy and unwittingly putting the man in a position of vulnerability and intimacy. Nevertheless, the hand was still stretching outward, and Spock had to make a decision.

He grasped the man’s hand in his own, and time sped up once more. This time, Spock sensed none of the anxiety nor hints of bitterness that had been present on first contact. Instead, feelings of fraternity and amusement flowed across into Spock’s mind. James seemed to have truly gained an understanding, if not appreciation, for Spock’s involvement in their situation and no longer held a grudge against him. That was progress, indeed.

Alongside the deluge of Kirk’s emotional impressions, the feeling of his skin on Spock’s was overwhelming the Vulcan. His hands were smooth and warm, short fingers grasping firmly along Spock’s more delicate hand and causing tremors to run up his arm. This was obscene, this was unacceptable, this was — this was going on for too long. Kirk’s eyes were locked onto Spocks, and he was saying something, but Spock couldn’t hear it over the buzzing in his ears and the feeling of Kirk’s own spark of… what was that? Anxiety? The touch was over, James had withdrawn his hand and was now giving a wave as he turned on his heel to walk away.

Spock just stood there, dumbfounded, his hand feeling strangely cold and his mind surging and empty all at once, lips parted ever so slightly in the closest he would ever show to shock.

* * *

 

“Call from Captain Christopher Pike, for S'chn T'gai Spock” The computer blared loudly in its monotone, interrupting Spock’s distracted work on his conclusion.

Spock did not hesitate to answer the call. Anything that could take his mind off of James Kirk was welcome, he was avoiding meditating — he was not sure if he was prepared to face his thoughts on the ensign.

As the screen blinked on, it occurred to Spock to wonder why the captain was calling this evening. The two had a good working relationship, they had been assigned on the same station orbiting Mars for two years, Spock doing research on terraforming and Pike commanding base operations. When Pike was promoted, Spock returned to the academy for his graduate degree. They kept in touch, Pike even planned to station the Lieutenant under his command once Spock had completed his graduate degree at the academy.

“Lieutenant Spock!” The Captain shot a flash of a smile, his hands clasped in front of him on the desk that was presumably in his quarters on the  _ Enterprise _ . “I'm glad I caught you while you were in. How's the academy?”

Spock’s eyebrow quirked upward and he blinked a few times before answering. The Captain’s enthusiasm caught him rather off guard.

“Captain, I am gratified by your call. I assure you I am quite well, and the academy has undergone little change since my tenure as a cadet ended.”

“Good, good… Glad to hear it. So no new developments? Nothing to report?” The Captains eyes were gleaming, looking at Spock expectantly.

“On the contrary, Captain, while the atmosphere and layout of the Academy remain identical, my studies have shifted and I am working with an entirely different assembly of colleagues. For example, I am currently working on an experiment….”

Spock reported his laboratory findings in great detail, a quality which Captain Pike knew betrayed his excitement on the subject. The Vulcan’s eyes were wide with enthusiasm and his voice was far less monotone than usual, lending emphasis to aspects which he found particularly fascinating. He spoke of his colleagues with high regard, giving commondations to some of those who were assisting in his studies. The Captain let Spock speak for ten minutes uninterrupted. Pike was genuinely curious as to what Spock was studying, even if it wasn’t the primary reason he called.

“And the findings were incredibly valuable to the research on long term warp speed on the humanoid constitution, we found that —”

“Yes, I heard, there will be new regulations on high-warps because of your research, Mr. Spock.”

“Yes, Captain, and with further study, we will be able to find ways to compensate for light speed’s effect on the humanoid form.” Spock was speaking incredibly fast, the subject seemingly supremely interesting to him. Pike, while happy for his friend, hardly understood warp theory at its most fundamental level.

“That sounds great, Spock.” He said honestly. The Vulcan gave the closest he ever got to a beaming smile, his lips actually upturned and his eyes bright before he composed himself once more.

Spock found that the Captain’s approval had strange effects on his ability to shield his physical response to emotional influence. Something like pride always crept in when Pike complimented him.

Pike considered Spock for a moment, then took a deep breath.

“Spock… I wanna ask you about Jim.” Pike took the dive, incredibly curious as to what the Lieutenant thought of his assignment with the human.

_ Jim,  _ Spock thought.  _ Jim, who is Jim? _ He raised one eyebrow, questioning the man on the screen.

“Jim — Kirk — the Ensign you’ve been assigned to meet with.” Pike elaborated, somewhat exasperated.

_ Jim. James. James Kirk, the ensign. James Kirk of whom I am not thinking. Jim. James Kirk whom I  _ —

“Spock?” His voice came from far away, and Spock knew that his face had gone pale, that he must speak soon or else Pike would suspect —

“Yes, Captain, we have had two meetings, although I fail to understand how you are privy to this arrangement.” Spock’s voice was once again flat, closed off, and Pike sighed as he brought one hand up to rub at his forehead.

“Spock, the meetings were my idea. I thought you knew that I’m Jim’s advisor? I recommended him for command track.” Pike, intrigue dashing across his face, searched Spock’s eyes. “I had assumed Alexander had told you.”

“No Captain, the Commander did not relay this information to me. It is possible that he is unaware of our professional relationship, as he stated simply that the order had come from starfleet command.” Something was boiling in Spock’s gut. There was a heat in chest and his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his side.

“Well, no matter, how are the sessions going?” The Captain’s nonchalance was in stark contrast to the storm brewing in Spock’s mind. What did it all mean? Where was this all coming from? Why, of all people, was Spock the one who Pike chose? All questions for later.

For now, Spock shoved the storm deep into the recesses of his mind, closing a door on the turbulent waves and lashing winds. The black clouds and swirling rain of his thoughts closed off completely as he tried his best to answer the Captain in a way that would leave no cracks in the dam he had hastily built.

“The sessions we have had so far have not been entirely focused on the true purpose of the assignment, but I cannot say that they have been unproductive.” Vulcans do not lie. “I find Ensign Kirk to be a highly volatile man, and I have been struggling somewhat to accommodate his understanding of social acceptabilities.” Vulcans cannot lie. “Kirk himself is a valuable subject for my study of human behavior, and I must admit that I find him… intriguing. He is certainly a fascinating example of what you might call a charismatic personality, though he does not seem to have knowledge of the cultural differences between Vulcans and Humans — an unsurprising characteristic.”  _ And not an unpleasant one _ .

It took a lot of strength not to say that aloud, but it was not a lie — merely an omission, and a fact that had bubbled to the surface of Spock’s brain from the thrashing of the storm in his mind. He shoved it back behind the dam. He did not know how much longer it would hold.

The Captain was smiling.  _ What is so amusing? _

“I had hoped that you two would get along. To tell you the truth… I assigned the two of you together because I think that you could both benefit from these sessions. Meet in the middle, as it were.”

“Sir, with all due respect, I have had no difficulties with emotional sensitivity as Ensign Kirk has, and I plan on carrying out only the required training which I was assigned.” Spock was feeling more vulnerable by the minute. The dam was under strain. Much more of this, and he would become compromised and need to rescind his statement on emotional sensitivity. He knew he sounded far too defensive to the superior officer, but he could not help but to close himself off.

“Alright. I won’t push it.” The Captain’s voice softened, and it seemed as always that Pike could see past the façade of Spock’s carefully controlled expression right to the heart of him. “But just… try and get to know the guy. I think it’ll make your job easier if you understand where he’s coming from. Kirk’s had… a tough time of it. He has his reasons for being the way he is — as you have yours. Just tell me you’ll try.”

Spock gave the slightest nod, not trusting himself to open his mouth. He could feel the storm building into a hurricane and he knew that he would need to build sea walls to keep the assault at bay. His shields were crumbling, his mental faculties were exhausted, and everything was welling up far beyond what he could control without immediate meditation.

“Goodnight, Lieutenant.” Pike’s voice was barely above a whisper, as if anything louder might break the man on the other side of the screen. Spock nodded once more before Pike shut off their connection, and as soon as the line was broken, everything collapsed.

* * *

 

_ He is arrogant, he is unyielding. _

Kirk is not the kind of person Spock associates with. He is far too expressive and far too stubborn

_ He is intelligent, he is kind. _

The ensign had held out his hand and Spock had taken it.

_ He is your subordinate, he is under your advisement. _

Spock’s job was to help Kirk control his impulses and inhibit emotional response in command situations.

_ “Kirk’s had a tough time of it.” _

Pike’s words came back to Spock from deep within his meditation. A tough time of what? The tensions of command training? If the ensign could not handle the pressures of his training, he would surely be unable to cope with actual command.

Sort through the thoughts, the feelings.

Spock took one end of the tangled knot of his thoughts, pulling a thread through to see what it was made of.

_ Curiosity. _

Of course Spock is curious about James Kirk —  _ Jim _ — this enigma of a man that has such strong opinions and such free will. He is so startlingly different from Spock, it is impossible not to desire an understanding of his behavior. File it away. Next strand.

_ Apprehension. _

Spock is nervous to share his culture with Kirk, the disciplines of Vulcan emotional control are difficult for Spock already given his genetic disadvantages. The ensign does not seem as though he is totally engaged in the assignment, perhaps he, too, is apprehensive of the implications of such an exchange. It is illogical to feel nervous about teaching Kirk. Discard. Next.

_ Excitement. _

He mulled it over. Surely is due to the opportunity to study a single human in close proximity on a regular basis. Spock would be able to learn about social queues and interactions as well as study facial expressions and mannerisms. Excitement could be linked with curiosity and was therefore acceptable. Find its place. Next.

_ Wanting. _

The brush of calloused hands against the smooth skin of Spock’s palm. The buzz of warmth and acceptance that had passed through their touch. The emptiness when his hand had slipped from Spock’s grasp.

_ No. _

That would not do. It was illogical for Spock to wish to feel James’ emotions once again. There was nothing to be gained by it in regards to their assignment, and its presence was unwelcome in Spock’s thoughts. It was a product of his isolation from other Vulcans, Spock was sure. A distance between himself and the bonds he had formed on his home planet. Spock was simply longing for contact with one of his own, not for Kirk specifically. The fact that the feeling had even surfaced was concerning, but it did not bear consideration due to the fact that it would be rejected in any case. There would be no further consideration regarding the feeling. Discard.

The smell of his firepot burning incense brought Spock back into his body. A tether to the physical world that Spock could tug on to bring himself out of deep meditation. His internal chronometer told him that it was early morning, 0400, enough time to sleep for two hours before beginning his work for the day.

Spock already felt well-rested, but he knew he needed to give his mind a break and let the different thoughts settle into their respective files within his carefully constructed memory banks.

He lay carefully on his bed, the storm behind his shields stilled and stopped, though waves still lapped at the edge of his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed, things are really starting to h a p p e n
> 
> Check out my Tumblr @goshdangitsjo and shoot me a message!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I know it's been like 5 years, sorry! Thank you so much for your support, I've gotten so many sweet messages and I just want you all to know I love you so much! Your words keep me going.

“Yeah, I was complete judgemental dickwad.”

_ Ba-doom _ Jim threw the stress ball against the floor again, catching it as it ricocheted back to where he lay on his bed.

“Hmm.” Bones didn’t even lift his head.

_ Ba-doom _ .

“Yeah…” he let out a heavy sigh. He could admit that he had jumped to some… unfair… perhaps prejudiced conclusions upon his first encounter with Spock.

_ Ba-doom _ . Heavy sigh.

_ Ba-doom _ .

_ Ba-doom _ .

_ Ba-thunk _ — the ball was smacked out of the air by a heavy textbook, but looking at Bones, you’d be hard pressed to even see that he’d moved. Aside from the cocky smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

“Y’know that’s not the prescribed use for a stress ball.”

Jim shrugged, knowing that Bones’ attention was once again on his assigned reading.

“Hey, if it works…” He rolled off of the bed and onto his feet. He grabbed his jacket and ran a hand through his hair, picking up the stress ball and bouncing it once, just to annoy his roommate. Bones shot him a glare.  _ He’s too easy _ , Jim smiled. “I’m going over to Green’s.”

“Hmm.”

He slid on the jean jacket and headed out. There were patches and holes, and it was decidedly vintage, but it still smelled like wheat and sun and dirt and  _ home _ . There was an old retro-style refabricated patch on it bearing the old United States air and space research administration logo. Space travel looked so different now, but Jim had been awestruck the first time he had seen the holovid of Neil Armstrong walking on the moon. Big clunky shoes and paper-thin walls on the lunar landing module. Jim was hooked from age five.

Jacob’s quarters were only the next building over, so Jim was up the three flights of stairs and knocking on his door in no time at all.

The door opened, Green standing in a pair of grey sweats. His hair was wet, water pooled in the hollows at his collarbones, making light sparkle in the droplets.

“Ah.” He swung the door open wide and turned to make his way back to his desk. Jim followed, shutting the door behind him.

“‘Ah?’ What’s ‘ah?’” Jim laughed, not at all put off by the lukewarm reception. Jim immediately sat on Jacob’s bed, lounging back so that his head was up by the adjacent desk. “You busy or something?”

“‘Ah’ is you showing up here explains this text I just got from Bones.” Green held up his communicator, the chatbox showed a contact labeled with a skull and crossbones and underneath a transmission that simply read  _ your turn _ .

“Yeah okay.” Jim grumbled, pulling out the stress ball once again. He held his silence for all of twenty seconds before returning to his musings.

“But do you think that maybe —”

“Jim, I don’t think it’s anything personal.”

“Yeah, but —”

“I really just think that you’ll have to wait for four days until you have your next session.”

“Yeah, but it just seemed like there was such a change in how we spoke and I just feel really bad about —”

“Yeah you feel really bad about judging the guy, I know, but from what you tell me, he’s not one to hold grudges, so —”

“Right, but he didn’t  _ say anything _ ’s all. I mean, I really just wanna make it up to him for being such a jackass when we first met and akch, I don’t know, I just feel like I did a total 360 on the guy and I owe it to him.”

“I think you mean 180.”

“What?”

“180. You went from hating his guts to asking him to get coffee, it’s a 180.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You said you did a 360 on the lieutenant. If you did a 360, you’d be back where you started, which was hating him. You obviously don’t hate him, so it’s a 180.”

“Well… I could be at, I don’t know, a different elevation or… What do you mean ‘ _ obviously? _ ’”

Green ran his hands through the tight curls of his hair quickly, bringing his head down and snapping it back with an explosive laugh.

“Jim, you  _ asked him to get coffee  _ with you. What am I supposed to think??” He flicked his hands at Jim, spraying him with little droplets of water.

“It’s not weird!” Jim scowled at Jacob, rubbing across his face with his sleeve. “I just really liked talking to him and I thought he had interesting things to say! Sue me, I wanted to talk to him more —  _ as a colleague _ — and I don’t think he’s the drinking type.”

“Maybe he’s not the coffee type.”

“I mean,” Jim started incredulously, his face contorting with the utter absurdity of his next thought. “He could drink tea, but that’s a way weirder thing to ask.  _ Hey, Lieutenant, superior officer, to whom I am subordinate: would you like to have  _ **_tea_ ** _? _ ”

“Jim if your worry is that you’re crossing the line of professionalism in rank status, there’s no point because  _ you already have _ . _ ”  _ Green emphasized each syllable, his exasperation sounding tired after days of the same conversation. “You said he was a douchebag.”

“Yeah. Like I said. I may have been a bit judgemental. A lot judgemental. That’s why this is such a big deal! It’s a peace offering. Between two colleagues with the vague beginnings of a beneficial relationship.”

“ _ Oh, _ so now it's a  _ relationship _ .”

“No! I’m just — god, you’re the worst — I just enjoyed talking to him —”

“Yeah, Kirk, and I just want you to realize how much it sounds like you’ve got the hots for teacher. This lieutenant really does sound like a dreamboat.” Sarcasm pooled like honey into the conversation. “I think  _ I  _ have a crush on him just from listening to you ramble on for the past  _ three days. _ ” Green stuck out his foot and nudged Jim in the stomach.

“I cannot tell you enough how not-my-type he is.” Jim shot him a pleading look. “I’m only saying that we really saw eye to eye last tuesday and I hope that asking him to get coffee didn’t overstep or… I don’t know, rescind that progress. I mean, he didn’t even say anything, he just kind of stood there so I just said bye and walked away.”

“I know. And I told you. He’s probably just busy. And you’re right. It’s not like I haven’t had coffee with my professors or whatever before, it’s really not weird. Happy?” Green stood from his desk and walked to his closet to pull out a shirt. “Call Leonard and tell him to meet us at the bean.”

He exchanged his sweats for a pair of fitted black jeans and tucked the front of a distressed white tee into the waistband. The small holes in the shirt exposed the smooth skin of his chest and stomach, the rich earth-brown of his complexion providing contrast.

“Nah, he’s pretty busy. Working on some… actually I have no clue what he’s working on, but he was doing a pretty good job of ignoring me earlier.” Jim rolled to a stand and followed Green on his way out.

“Yeah and that had nothing to do with your constant exposition on,” he waggled his eyebrows and lowered his voice, “ _ the lieutenant.” _

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t”

“...I hate your stupid voice.”

“Fair enough.”

* * *

 

Jacob put his arm around him as they walked toward the coffee shop. He’s taller than Jim, and they often walk this way, Green teasing him and generally clowning around. Jim likes it, likes being enveloped, likes Jacob’s proximity.

The Bean is one of their go-to study joints, it’s big and relaxed with a bunch of old, soft couches. They entered through the door facing the campus greenspace, grateful to be out of the wind that was whipping it’s way over the open space.

They were stepping up to order when Green was called away by a woman in their applied sims class. He shot Jim a look, then slipped his arm off of his shoulders, walking over to the group of girls with a swagger in his step. Jim felt the absence of his warmth against his side.

“Hey, Hikaru,” Jim greeted the barista behind the counter, “How’s your semester? Better?”

“Yeah, sure, I just have to remind myself that there’s only one more left.” Jim was pretty used to his grumblings.

“Unless you go com- _ ma-a- _ nd.” Jim sang.

“Yeah, right.” Sulu shot him a sarcastic face. “What drink do you want, I don’t get paid to stand and talk to you.”

“But I’m such good company!” Jim held out his arms in mock offense and gave an indignant scoff. “Just a large coffee. Cream.”

“Anything for Sir Flirts-a-lot?” Sulu jabbed a thumb over to where Green stood, laughing with the women.

“Not on my tab.”

He glanced around the room while Sulu poured his drink, there were vacant tables all over, the coffee shop pretty empty this late on a Friday morning. Aside from the girls Jacob was talking with, there were only three other students. The bell above the door tinkled as one more walked in. She walked right up to where Jim was leaning against the counter.

“Could I get an iced vanilla latte, please?” She said once Sulu had placed Jim’s coffee in front of him.

“Iced coffee. In this weather?” Jim shot the woman an incredulous look, putting a melodramatic hand over his heart in shock.

“There’s more caffeine in the iced drinks.” She cracked a wry smile. “Bad habit.”

“Hell, I’ll buy your extra shot if it means you won’t get hypothermia.” Jim placed his hand on her arm where it rested on the counter, she actually felt pretty warm.

“Thanks, but I think I’ll let you save your money.” She rolled her eyes, and extracted her wrist. “Besides, this cold has nothing on my icy, icy heart.”

“Fair enough.” Jim chuckled. He couldn’t help it, she was witty. “My name’s Jim.” He stuck out his hand, abandoning the flirtation.

“Uhura.” She took it. “Communications, U.S.S. Myrmidon.”

“Oh, you’re stationed!” He could have been at the end of last year if he hadn’t gone command track. “So you’re on shore leave, right? What are you doing back at the academy?”

She nodded, taking a sip of the coffee Sulu had set in front of her.

“Visiting a friend.” She pushed off of the counter and gave a wave to Jim before walking over to sit at one of the window tables. She pulled a padd from her purse and began reading something. Jim backed away from the counter and towards a well-worn armchair further from the entrance.

Funny, Jim had never seen the woman around, though they had surely been cadets at around the same time. Admittedly, communications weren’t exactly Jims forte. Too much diplomacy and mincing words, plus communications officers were often versed in multiple languages in case of a universal translator breakdown — a skill Jim was always in awe of.

Jim had studied engineering and tactical training, which kept him pretty far away from the linguists. And the scientists. That gave him pause, and sank into the armchair with an embarrassed groan.

Why the  _ hell _ had he asked Spock to get coffee? He thought back to their conversation a couple days ago, ran it over as he had done so many times. He really could have talked to Spock for hours, about everything — god, his  _ mind _ — he seemed so well versed in so many things, there wasn’t a topic that Jim brought up that Spock hadn’t had insights on. But as gratifying as that conversation had been, the memory of it brought with it swirls of guilt and shame. And now a certain mortification.

He really did feel like a complete bigot for throwing Spock under the bus after their first encounter. He had jumped to conclusions based on Spock’s heritage — which was  _ super  _ not cool — and acted on prejudices alone. Jim really did think that that was behind him now, but he still wanted to make it up to Spock so,  _ yes sue me _ , he offered to take him out for coffee.

_ “Thanks for the conversation. And for… well, the forgiveness.” Spock’s eyes were glued to his, his face a blank slate and unreadable  _ —  _ even more so than when they’d first met. “I still feel really bad about the whole thing, so if you ever wanna grab a coffee, just let me know. My treat.” _

_ Jim dropped Spock’s hand and stuck his own in his pocket. Spock’s eyes followed it, then snapped back up to his face. _

_ “Well… bye.” And he turned with a small wave toward home. _

God, he felt like such an idiot. Of course Spock wouldn’t want to have coffee with Jim, he was there as a professional, he only even spoke to Jim because it was their appointed session. That plus  _ of course _ he doesn’t want to spend any more time with Jim than he has to. All things considered, Jim didn’t blame him.

Jim sighed, took a sip of his drink, and shook his head to clear it. He twisted in his seat to figure out what was taking Green so long. He stood at the counter, tearing a packet of sugar and dumping the contents into his own cup. He walked over to the cluster of couches and sat against the arm nearest Jim’s chair. He brought his legs up beneath him and tucked his feet to the side before rummaging through his backpack.

“How’s Gina?” Jim asked, nodding over to where the three girls sat along the other wall of the coffee shop.

“Still mad at you.”

“That was ages ago!” Jim rolled his eyes and shot a glance in the woman’s direction. “And I apologized. It’s not like I  _ purposely  _ flunked it. Jesus.”

“Okay… but, Jim, you gotta admit that violating the prime directive during a  _ prime directive sim test _ usually leads to bad grades. I’d be mad at you, too, if you’d been my partner.” Jacob found what he was looking for and pulled out a book-sized stack of index cards.

“Yeah, but you’d have gotten over it,” he grumbled.

“Hey, what’s the protocol for on-ship intrusion?” Jacob waved the flash card in Jim’s face, taking a sip from his coffee cup.

“Locate, isolate, interrogate.”

* * *

They were three cards from finished when the bell over the door tinkled once more. Jim, engrossed in the question, barely glanced up when the tall figure pushed his way inside.

His heart skipped. His head whipped back up.

“Shhhhit.” he grabbed Jacob’s notebook from where it sat on the end table between the couch and the armchair and hid his face behind it.

“What the hell are you —”

“Shhhh shutupshutupshutup.” Jim crouched down to the floor and peered over the couch to get a better look. Green was looking at him like he’d lost his mind. But sure enough, Lieutenant Spock was standing just inside the doorway, eyes sweeping the cafe.  _ He’s looking for someone what the fuck what do I do who is he looking for it can’t be me right that would be crazy of course  _ —

Jim was saved from his thoughts when the iced coffee girl — Uhura — stood to greet Spock. She walked over to him and raised her hand, separating the fingers into a ‘V’ shape. Spock returned the gesture. They were saying something, but Jim couldn’t make it out. Uhura smiled.

“Earth to Kirk!” Jacob grabbed both sides of Jim’s head and turned it so that they were face to face. Jim’s cheeks squished together, his eyes wide. Seeing his panic, Jacob backed off a little. “Dude,  _ what the hell?” _

“Get down here.”

“Down on the floor?”

“Yes, down on the — would you just —” Jim pulled him by the arm so that they were sitting side by side on the floor with their backs against the couch. “That’s him.”

“That’s —” Jacob’s eyes widened in recognition. “Wait  _ him  _ him?” He spun around to raise himself up to his knees, but Jim quickly wrestled him back to the floor. “ _ That’s  _ him?”

_ “Yes,” _ Jim hissed, trying to keep Jacob quiet. “We have to leave.”

_ “Why?”  _ Jacob smiled, making to stand again.

_ “Stop trying to  _ —” Jim pulled him down once more, knocking his backpack off of the couch with a thud. “Because I don’t want him to see me.”

“What are you talking about? Why does it matter?”

“I don't want him to see me in a  _ coffee shop” _

“Okay?”

“Can we please just go?”

“I wanna say hi!”

“Jacob, I'm giving you fair warning here, if you so much as make eye contact with him you will be dead to me.”

“Can I at least get a quick look? You didn't even let me see him.”

“Oh my god please can we please just leave?” Jim was getting more anxious by the moment, the mere idea of Spock discovering him behind the couch was gut wrenching.

“Okay, relax. Just… get everything back in my bag and… keep the notebook. We can go through the other doors, he won't even know we were here.”

Jim peered around the bottom of the couch. Spock was sitting in the chair facing their little hideout. He whipped back out of sight.

“You good?” Green stood, his bag slung over his shoulder and his hand outstretched. Jim took it and they stood up together, Green put his arm around him once again to shield him from Spock's view.

They walked quickly to the exit, Jacob waving a quick farewell to Sulu as the reached the other end of the coffee shop that let out onto the street. The door opened with a soft tinkle and Jim threw himself out of view and slouched against the brick wall just outside.

“Oh my god.” He put his head in his hands. “ _ Oh my god.”  _ Green clapped him on the shoulder.

“Well at least now you know he  _ is _ the coffee type.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted this from my phone so let me know if there are any major formating issues


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all, this is an extra short chapter but HEY its a chapter yea? I really uhhhhhhhhhhhhh didn't update there for a while did I. Cant say how regular updates will actually be but hopefully this is the start of me once again posting every other week. I am like. Kinda done for a while for the next few weeks so hopefully I can get a bunch of writing done. I really love this pic, so I promise it will eventually have a conclusion lmao.

“Spock? You with me?” Uhura waved a hand to draw his attention. “Spock?”

Spock blinked twice and turned his face away from the back door.

“Yes, Uhura. I apologize, I thought I…” He shook the thought from his head.

“Okay, then get your tea and sit down, it’s been way too long and I want to hear  _ everything _ .”

* * *

“You sure you’re okay with me being here? We don’t know how long repairs will take on the Myrmidon, I don’t want to put you out.” Uhura fluffed the pillow on the fold out couch and hugged a blanket to her chest. “I can stay on the starbase, it’s not a big deal.”

“If that is more amenable to you, I would find no insult.”

“No Spock, I want to stay here.” Uhura smiled, dazzling, and laughed. “I was asking if  _ you  _ were alright with it.”

Spock remained silent for a moment, he opened his mouth to speak, then closed it.

“I am… acquiescent,” he said finally.

“Aww, that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Uhura fanned her face scrunched up her lips. Spock determined that she was… teasing him. “Lemme go put on some PJs. You up for a slumber party?”

It had been such a long time since he and Nyota had spent time like this together, and memories came rushing back from their first ‘slumber party.’ It had started as an intense night of studying, but had ran so late that Uhura had spent the night. She had been shocked to hear of his lack of experience with slumber parties, and they became a regular occurence between the two friends. 

She snatched a pair of shorts and a loose t-shirt and headed stepped into the bathroom to change. Spock stepped into his own bedroom to do the same.

When he emerged, he put a kettle on the stove and stood in the kitchen to wait. The water boiled just as Uhura exited the bathroom, and he held up a mug, asking without words if she wanted any tea.

“Do you have the herbal kalai stuff? I can never find it in any of the ports, I swear you have to buy it straight from Vulcan.”

Spock nodded and retrieved two bags from the cupboard, pouring the water over them and watching it stain a reddish orange. Uhura curled herself up at the top of the bed, resting her back against the arm and back of the couch, her legs curled up beneath her. Spock made his way over and handed her both mugs before settling into a similar position and retrieving his cup.

“So.” Uhura began, her hands cupped around the warmth, bringing it up to her face. Her eyes twinkled, and she bore a mischievous smile.

Spock looked at her expectantly, sure already of where the conversation was heading, but unwilling to play along.

She reached out her leg and nudged Spock with her foot.

“Spo-ock.” She sang his name, nudging him again. “You told me all about your new warp efficiency report, about the new mycology lab, the new interdisciplinary medical science classes… is there anything  _ else _ new?”

“Uhura, I admit that I am perplexed at your questioning. It was my belief that all of these occurrences would be cause for excitement enough.” Spock mumbled into his mug, looking somewhere over Uhura’s right shoulder.

“You know that that whole ‘Vulcans don’t lie’ schtick really bites you in the ass sometimes.” she caught his eyes purposefully. “I can always tell when you’re hiding something because you can’t deny it. And you know that I love hearing about your work and the academy and all of that…”

“But you would, it seems, rather dwell on the aspects of my personal life.” Spock raised an eyebrow at her, eliciting a most dramatic eye-roll.

“I just want you to be happy, Spock. Most people on campus are cadets, I just want to know that you have… Somebody.” She reached out and laid a hand on his knee. Spock could feel the smallest stain of guilt bleeding through.

“Nyota, I feel a sense of happiness when I think of your assignment to the Myrmidon. And I assure you that I am quite content with the company I keep.” Even if that company was only his own.

“Well… Okay, how about your Lieutenant duties? You’ve got an office, now. What do you even use it for? It’s not like you’re ever out of the lab.”

Of course Uhura would, after dropping the obvious line of questioning, stumble upon exactly the wrong question to ask. Spock stared intently at his tea.

“I use the office.”

“Uh huh.” Uhura leaned back against the arm rest and nudged Spock with her foot. “What sort of stuff’re they making you do in there? Filing? Meetings? Paperwork?”

Spock did not lift his gaze.

“Spock?” A jolt of concern passed through her skin where she was touching him. “Hey, what is it?”

He lifted his head, hesitation clear in his eyes. Internally, Spock was weighing the pros and cons of telling Nyota about Jim. There was certainly insight to be gained about the whole… situation, but this was something that Spock should be able to handle on his own. There were certainly aspects that should not be shared with anyone without extensive meditation. But Spock opened his mouth and spoke anyway.

“There has been… something of an occurrence with an Ensign.” Spock spoke softly, looking slightly to Uhura’s left. “I have been charged with educating him in Vulcan restraint. He is on the command track, and his emotions have been clouding his judgement in applied simulations.”

“Let me guess. Not exactly the sharpest tool?” Uhura rolled her eyes, throwing her whole head into the motion. “I tell you, all of the command track students are total meatheads. I know they mellow out by the time they’re actually stationed, but they really are all jocks.”

“On the contrary,” Spock spoke in a whisper as he looked Uhura in the eyes, his eyebrows pulling together as he thought. “James is extremely intelligent and well mannered. He is quick witted and eager to learn in any subject, as well as being a self-proclaimed ‘bookworm.’ In our session three days ago, he expressed an interest in reading Surakian texts in order to better understand my culture. We spoke for eighty minutes on a variety of topics, and never once was I required to bow my intellect to his level. When he left, I sensed —”

He broke off. He really should not say any more without sorting his own feelings out first.

“Spock…” Uhura’s eyes were wide, and she had sat up, leaning toward him with her mug in both hands. “What — exactly — happened when he left.”

“Nyota, I —”

“Cut the bullshit, Spock. What happened?”

Spock again looked slightly to Uhura’s left as the next words left his mouth.

“He shook my hand. I felt… Intelligence. Curiosity. On my own part I cannot say what I feel.” Spock’s lips stayed lightly parted, an echo of the look of shock James had left on his face when they had parted ways three days ago. “I enjoy his company,” he looked back to Uhura, not seeing her, really, but with his eyes on her face nonetheless, “I am fascinated by him.”

“Well, Spock. You’re really in it this time.”

* * *

Spock entered the lecture hall at 0855 and sat down at the front. Ensign McCoy followed soon after with two cups of black coffee. He sat down in his seat beside Spock and downed one, and then started sipping on the second.

“Morning, Lieutenant.” McCoy tipped his cup at Spock, who was observing his classmate’s unusual behavior. “I’ve had a rough few days. If I start falling asleep, do the heartless thing and wake me up.”

 “I shall endeavour to curb your unprofessionalism.”

“Would you rather me skip the class and leave you alone with these dolts and,” he glanced at the board at the front of the hall, “the ‘subspecial distinctions of Andor’?”

Spock raised an eyebrow at the doctor, and curiosity overcoming him.

“While I am not disinclined to accept your company, I must admit that I am unable to explain your behavior or your insistence on being present for the lecture.”

“You mean, why am I exhausted and why not play hooky? Look, Spock, I appreciate the concern, but it really isn’t anything that you would be interested in.”

“On the contrary, Doctor, I find that the longer my curiosity goes unsated, the higher my anticipation for an answer becomes.” Spock looked at McCoy expectantly, while the doctor stared at him.

“Basically, my roommate is having boy problems and I’ve been dealing with him for the past four days. In order to not be dealing with him, I have to not be around him. To not be around him I have to be in class.” McCoy deadpanned, looking Spock directly in the eye as the latter shifted back in his seat.

“Ah,” said Spock, “Yes, that is certainly something outside of the realm of my proficiencies.”

The two men turned toward the front of the hall as the Professor began the day’s lecture.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Tumblr @goshdangitsjo and shoot me a message!! Or comment! Pls comment ily okay bye


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